Tartaruga
by Spirit the Fire Dragon
Summary: Ezio Auditore has gone missing in the blink of an eye, disappearing like smoke before the Brotherhood's eyes. Leonardo da Vinci was the last to speak to him, the one willing to go to any lengths to find and bring him home. Even as far as to betray the Brotherhood if that is what needs to be done. /previously Inventing Betrayal/
1. Chapter 1

INVENTING BETRAYAL

SEQUENCE ONE INTIATED…

ROMA, 1502

THE DISAPPEARANCE

Leonardo da Vinci was a patient man. He was patient of others, but perhaps not of himself—the impatience he had with his own wandering mind sometimes brought him to his knees with frustration. But that is beside the point, because Leonardo was patient when it came to the _assassini, _especially the one whom he had known since his early days in Firenze.

Ezio Auditore, the aforementioned Firenze _assassino, _was a man Leonardo never regretted meeting, despite the danger it brought upon him. Ezio was his oldest, and if Leonardo was being perfectly honest, his closest friend. Without a question, he would do anything to help his assassin friend. Many times already, he has done just that.

But now he felt incredibly guilty for the part he played in aiding the Borgia. Though it had been under duress he had designed the war machines, Leonardo couldn't help but feel responsible for the trouble he put Ezio through in destroying them and their plans. And yet, his friend took it on himself to do without a question, without even stopping to think Leonardo had actually betrayed him. It touched the artist that he was trusted so utterly and unconditionally.

Humming to himself, Leonardo continued on his commission, feeling rather proud that is was halfway done. Though the impatience of his own procrastination had been eating at him for some days, for the painting had been the source of much grief. However, the painting seemed not as bad as he remembered when he had last attempted to finish it. The last time he had sat down to paint it he had stormed to bed in a fit of rage two hours later when he had tried to darken a shadow and made it a ridiculous, purplish bruise on the _signora's_ cheek.

With a sigh, Leonardo placed the brush down after several hours work on the painting, standing to realign his spine with three sickening cracks. Rearranging his beret, Leonardo decided to take stroll through the market as he did every day to check if Ezio had sat at one of the several benches he had marked. He told his assistant and set out into the wild streets of Roma, humming a lighthearted tune as he went.

As he walked, he was delighted to hear conversations between soldiers (some enraged, others quieted, some even fearful) of the destruction of his assorted war machines. He was particularly glad of the destruction of his cannoned flying machine. His flying machine was something akin to his child, a creature born of his flesh and blood and tears; to have his own blood in the hands of the Borgia had sent angry prickles up his spine at the thought of it. Now that it was destroyed—though it hurt so—he could finally breathe freely again, now knowing no filthy, Borgia hands would steer it again.

Two benches, five eavesdropped conversations and three hours later, Leonardo made his way up to one of the last benches at the top of a cliff-hill, smiling to himself when he saw a familiar white hooded figure sitting hunched there. Making it look like a desire to rest his legs (that wasn't all show), Leonardo wandered to the bench and sat next to the _assassino, _pulling back his shoulders and carefully rearranging his legs as he did.

"I hope you were not waiting long," Leonardo said out of the corner of his mouth. Ezio smiled.

"It was plentiful time to think."

Leonardo hummed. "The whole of Roma is speaking of the destruction of my war machines. I've had a little time to work on something just for you in the meantime." Handing a tied parcel to his friend, he explained, "It is like my flying machine, only much smaller. You can carry it with you wherever you go."

"_Grazie,_ Leonardo."

Looking at the assassin who now sat next to him on one of the designated benches out of the corner of his eye, Leonardo couldn't help but feel a bit proud. For what, he did not know, but the feeling was unmistakable.

"What do you plan next?"

Ezio smiled a bit. "I need to speak to Claudia," is what he said. "Perhaps her girls will know something of Cesare's funds."

Leonardo hummed. "May Lady _Fortuna _be with you, then."

Ezio's chest rumbled like an enormous feline. "I need little fortune."

"Ah, but sometimes having a little luck is better for the health."

Ezio quirked a smile before he heavily got to his feet and wandered off; Leonardo had never believed Ezio of all people to wander, but wander he did. Leonardo stayed seated for some time afterwards before standing up as well and making his way back to his workshop. If only he knew that short, insubstantial meeting was the last time he would see Ezio Auditore for a strangling, lonely, and terrifying five months. Normally, five months was but a moment between them, but this instance, the disappearance was much, much worse.

* * *

It was six days later that Leonardo was confronted with the first worried ally_. _Unlike Ezio, who mostly saw fit to soar through his windows whenever he wanted to pay a visit, Claudia Auditore was much more conventional than her brother and instead chose to knock at his door.

"_Signora!_ What a surprise. Please, come in—ah, excuse the mess, I did not have time to clean today—"

"Leonardo, have you seen Ezio?" Ah, said like a true Auditore: straight to the point, straight through his blather. Leonardo stopped and turned to look at the young womanframed by his doorframe, eyebrows knotted.

"Not for several days_. _He mentioned he was going to see you when he left, however; did you not meet him about a week ago?"

"No, that is what worries me," Claudia admitted. "He mentioned in passing before he was in need of my girls, but has not come to see me. La Volpe told me to ask you."

"I'm afraid I have not seen him," Leonardo said. "_Mi dispiace. _But you know Ezio better than I; it is not unlike him to vanish for some days."

"_Si,_ but not when Cesare is still running amok with all of his funds." Claudia bowed slightly to him, turning to leave. "_Grazie,_ Leonardo."

"If you need anything else, please stop by!" Leonardo called as he made his quick way up towards the door to see her out. "Do not hesitate to ask!"

"I will not," Claudia assured him before stepping into the crowd before his workshop and disappearing from his view.

_She would make an excellent assassin_, Leonardo thought.

* * *

The first _assassino _to visit him after Claudia was in the middle of the night—for God's sake, even though he was up more than half the night it did not mean it was the prime time to visit him, but the _assassini_ thought much different, apparently—and Leonardo was left swearing and stumbling when a voice from behind him broke the silence of his workshop.

"Is it normal for you to be up this late, da Vinci?"

"_Merda! _La Volpe! Is it the norm for you to visit at such late hours?"

Leonardo had turned to see the thief ever so nonchalantly sitting on the upper railing of his workshop, sitting precariously with his feet swinging. The thief grinned at him in a most feral manner, before saying, "Ezio has not returned to _Isola Tiberina, _nor has he left message through the pigeons. Have you contacted him since meeting with him on the bench?"

"No, I have not—wait, how did you know?"

"It is my business to know everything," La Volpe said dismissively. "_Molto bene. _Expect a recruit or one of my thieves to collect you in the coming days. If he is not found soon, that is."

"What do you mean, found? You think he is missing?"

"More of captured, but Machiavelli is…resistant to the thought of it. I, however, do not believe it so absurd that the Borgia may have overpowered him."

"I find it a little farfetched…"

"Something strange indeed to hear from your mouth, da Vinci," the thief replied before disappearing into the darkness of the upper rooms in his workshop. When Leonardo followed, he found only an open window and a chilled breeze.

* * *

Leonardo was not overly concerned, if truth be told. Even though Ezio had not made contact to the others or himself, Leonardo knew him to be more than capable of handling himself. Perhaps he got caught up in some other mission, perhaps he even left Roma for some reason…or maybe he is undercover, already thinking ahead to his next mission…

Leonardo shook himself free of the dark thoughts when a knock on his door resounded through the room. The inventor stood and opened it to reveal a hooded girl with black hair and a crossbow sticking over her left shoulder.

"I was told to come and escort you to the hideout, _Maestro."_

Leonardo felt a coil of worry knot itself in his stomach, but he forced the worry and questions from his throat. He agreed quickly and called to his _assistente _to watch over the workshop, and gesturing to the recruit to lead the way.

"May I ask, what is your name?"

"Bianca Bonasera_. _I am a _veterano. Maestro_ Machiavelli entrusted you to me personally; you are in safe hands."

"I had no doubts_,_ _signorina._ I know I am. Have you any information on Ezio?"

"_Nessuno, mi dispiace._ No more than the rest."

Leonardo sighed and fell silent. Somehow, the words did not come to him as they would have before; Bianca Bonasera seemed like a lovely woman to talk to, but with the possibility of his friend in enemy hands, even his own tongue was stilled. They remained in silence for the entire trip to the hideout, and not a single guard glanced their way. Bianca opened the door to the tower and gestured Leonardo inside, closing the door behind her with a firm hand.

"Ah, Leonardo," Machiavelli greeted him as he descended the steps and approached the tight ring of _assassini_ who stood in the center of their underground hideout. "It is always a pleasure. Was your trip calm?"

"Yes, thanks to Bianca. She led us around several guards I did not see—"

"As she is trained to. Thank you, Bianca, you may go." He did not resume speaking until the _veterano _had bowed and disappeared into one of the many rooms of the hideout. "La Volpe insisted you be present today. We have had word from an undercoverassassin in Cesare's ranks that the ambush on an assassin the previous week was successful and our captured brother is being interrogated as we speak."

"It must be Ezio," Claudia said. "None of the recruits have gone missing or even died in the past several weeks."

"_Certamente,"_ Machiavelli said. "What we must to do now is decide how to proceed."

"Do we know where he is being held?" That was La Volpe.

"No," Machiavelli admitted. "Our man couldn't find out. Apparently only Cesare himself knows. It's that or the guards who know are kept very, very quiet."

"How can we proceed if we don't know where he is? Or if he's even alive still?"

"That is why we're here, Claudia!" Machiavelli could get sharp in his tone when he was aggravated.

"No one has seen him? Not one of the courtesans, or even the thieves?"

"As far as I know, no," Claudia said.

"About five of my thieves were killed in a scuffle with the guards last week," La Volpe admitted. "I didn't think much of it; the guards in the area where they were killed are rather keen. Perhaps they were attempting to aid Ezio in the ambush and were killed."

Leonardo couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Do you know where?" All eyes turned to him and he flushed slightly under the scrutiny.

"Of course."

"Then you should go there," Leonardo said, almost excitedly. "Perhaps there was a beggar there who saw it, or one of the shopkeepers. They could tell you if Ezio was there, and maybe they overheard where they were taking him if he was. Or even in the general direction they went and how."

La Volpe tapped his chin. "I will go. I will be back before nightfall. _Grazie, _Leonardo. _Arrivederci."_

* * *

Leonardo stayed in the hideout, unwilling to be absent a moment that could be spent searching for Ezio. Though he was useless in the actual searching, he wanted to be at hand if the other _assassini_ would need him. Claudia had felt much the same, but he had persuaded her she was better stationed in her brothel, listening and employing her girls to listen. Machiavelli disappeared somewhere almost instantly after La Volpe departed. Bartolomeo, who had been silent the entire meeting as he had nothing to add, rumbled something about the French and left as well.

Some of the assassin recruits sat next to him at the table he had found himself at, attempting at conversation (having heard the stories of his legendary tongue and too-quick mind) but were disappointed when all he could manage were a few weak words and comments, sparse eye contact and a mumbled finish of a sentence that almost had no connection to whatever they had said. They could tell his heart was not in it, having been spirited away with Ezio, lying shivering in whatever dank cell their savior was imprisoned in. After a few attempts, the recruits left him be and spoke in their quiet words by the board or perused the library.

Years seemed to pass from the time La Volpe had left and to the time he returned. Leonardo shot up at the sight of the thief himself stalking in from the lower door, his face hidden by his hood and steps silent. Leonardo hadn't even heard the door open.

"Well?" Leonardo cried, hurrying towards the silent thief who stood in the center of the vast room, arms crossed and head bowed. "Did you find anything?"

"Yes. Where is Machiavelli? I do not want to repeat myself more than already necessary."

"He left some time ago, not long after you left, as did the others."

La Volpe swore under his breath before he looked up at Leonardo with a cocked eyebrow and compressed lips. "I will send a recruit with word." Like he said, he beckoned over a slim and tall recruit, who had sparse armor and a long sword on his hip. He was probably the runner of the _assassini, _the quickest of his brothers and sisters. La Volpe scribbled several words on three sheets of parchment and with the instruction: "Only hand them over only to Claudia, Machiavelli and Bartolomeo, and no one else, _capito?"_

_"Capito, maestro._" The recruit responded, tucking the papers in his pouch before hurrying out.

La Volpe sighed and turned to Leonardo, who had an eager look on his face. "_Si,_ I found a beggar who witnessed the fight. After some provocation, he told me a man in strange white robes was attacked by what he described as "an entire battalion of guards". He related that he was holding his own until a cheap and lucky blow seemed to break his knee. It was then my thieves joined to protect him, but they were cut down by the sheer number of soldiers there. They beat Ezio until "he was a bleedin' like a _puttana fresco_" and dragged him away, to where I suspect a carriage or their horses were."

Leonardo felt sick, and the world shifted under his feet for a moment before he staggered and grabbed the wall to anchor himself. La Volpe grasped his arm in a surprisingly sympathetic gesture. "He did not overhear anything as to where he was being taken, or even why. When the others get here we can decide what to do next. But you did well, Leonardo. I can tell you Machiavelli would not have thought of it."

That offered very little comfort.

* * *

"…and he did not overhear anything after they left," La Volpe finished.

The other _assassini_ were all still, some holding their breath until la Volpe finished his report. Machiavelli was rubbing his chin thoughtfully and Bartolomeo looked like he was about to fling himself into a full blown swearing rage. Claudia, like Leonardo, looked sick.

"What do we do now?"

"It did very little good if you ask me—"

"Well, now we know it was Ezio—"

"We already knew Ezio was captured!"

"Everyone, _per favore, _we cannot afford to argue. We need to decide what to do now—"

"Little help you're doing on that front, Machiavelli!"

Leonardo put his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out the bickering assassins, who normally worked well together but in the face of almost utter destruction and with their ally's life hanging in the balance, could not keep old rivalries from arising and heating. Without Ezio to cool tempers, the most headstrong and temperamental of the Brotherhood were once again at each other's throats. Leonardo needed to think, to try and help, but with all of this noise piling up in his mind and distracting him he could barely even breathe…!

And then it hit him. In an instant, he knew what needed to be done, despite the sacrifice and the implications. It was Ezio's life in their hands. Leonardo shouted above the clamor from his place at the table, and to his surprise, all the _assassini_ quieted in the instant they heard his raised voice.

"_Silenzio! _I know what has to be done!"

Leonardo looked up at all of them in turn, waiting until silence had fallen until he spoke again.

"One of us has to betray the Brotherhood."

* * *

**Just like the take this time to say hello, Assassin's Creed fandom! I've been a follower for quite some time but until now I hadn't the inspiration to write anything. I hope you'll enjoy this little thing eating away at me. Sorry for any typos, modern words, bad Italian or mistakes, as all of them are mine.**

**Sorry if this seems so rushed, it's how it seems to me. But I've wrote this in one sitting to get it out before I forget or lose interest. *is sheepish* Don't be shy to leave a review or a critique! Thanks for reading this ridiculously long winded thing and see you next chapter.**

_**Assassini, assassino: **_**Assassins, assassin**

_**Signora, Signorina: **_**Lady, ms. or miss**

_**Grazie: **_**Thank you**

_**Fortuna: **_**Fortune**

_**Mi dispiace: **_**I'm sorry**

_**Merda: **_**Shit**

_**Isola Tiberina: **_**Tiber Island**

_**Molto bene: **_**Very well**

_**Maestro: **_**Master**

_** Assistente: **_**Assistant **

_** Veterano: **_**veteran, 8****th**** rank assassin**

_**Nessuno, mi dispiace. : **_**None, I'm sorry.**

_**Certamente: **_**Certainly, of course**

_** Arrivederci: **_**Goodbye**

_**Capito? : **_**Understood?**

_**Capito, maestro: **_**Understood, master**

_**Puttana fresco: **_**fresh whore/bitch**

_**Per favore: **_**please**

_**Silenzio: **_**silence, shut up**

** I went kind of crazy with the Italian…heh heh…please correct me if I've made a mistake, I'd rather be able to correct it than let it stand. Thanks so much!**

** -Spirit-**


	2. Chapter 2

SEQUENCE 2 INITIATED…

THE PLAN

A deathly, suffocating silence fell. Leonardo flushed self-consciously but held his ground, staring at the gawking assassins before him. From his place sitting at the table, the assassins who normally stood taller than him seemed like towering giants, foreboding and dangerous.

Volpe was the one to break that horrible silence. Perhaps he was the only one brave enough, or the only one strong enough to not be as affected by it. "I do think one is not supposed to tell those whom he means to betray that he is planning to."

Leonardo grinned weakly before he waved the comment like an irksome fly. "That isn't what I intended. I meant it in the sense that one of us becomes a mole, gains Cesare's trust and discovers where he holds Ezio prisoner."

Machiavelli looked unconvinced. "Oh? Cesare is aware that we are _assassini_—every one of us, even though he cannot capture us. It would be a pointless endeavor, a suicide mission."

"No, he is onto something," Claudia interrupted, looking thoughtful. "That is why he said one of us betrays the Brotherhood. We would be a spy, a double agent; still working for the assassins but pretending to turn to a Templar."

"I agree," Volpe said. "It could work…"

"But who will do the honors?" Machiavelli asked, holding his hands together behind his back, nobly restraining himself from strangling his fellow master assassins.

Volpe and Claudia had both opened their mouths to nominate themselves, but were beaten out by a quick, "I will," from the sitting, blonde haired man sitting stiffly at the table. He was almost vibrating from nervous energy but his blue eyes were aflame with determination.

"You? Leonardo, you could not possibly think you could fool Cesare, do you?"

Leonardo looked disgruntled at the comment. "I can. For Ezio."

Volpe looked just as skeptical. (Disgruntled as well, seeing as he was siding with the man he distrusted.) "Oh? Tell me, Leonardo, why are you the best candidate?"

Leonardo took a deep breath and said, "I've been working with the Borgia for some time now—not by my own will, I assure you—and have built machines for them in the past, all of which Ezio have destroyed. But if I were to turn to them completely, it would not seem so strange nor be as difficult for me—after all, the Borgia captains I have…interacted with in the past believe me weak willed. The type of man to scurry to the highest bidder, so to say."

"Are you?"

"If I was I would already be a Templar, Bartolomeo."

Leonardo continued, pressing his advantage. "I know where to meet the Borgia. I might even be able to gain an audience with Cesare if I play the cards right. It could take months or even years for any of you to completely gain their trust, and by that time Ezio will be dead or worse than. I have been used by the Borgia before, and to a certain extent they trust me. With the right story and the right information on the Brotherhood, I would jump very high in the ranks very quickly. Cesare needs someone like me. A designer; an architect of his machines."

The men and woman of the Tiber Island hideout were quiet for many long, long moments before, once again, La Volpe broke the silence with a pleased rumble in his voice and a somewhat feral grin under his russet hood. "You'll need the right story then. I've got an idea in mind…"

* * *

Leonardo groaned as he took a seat in the hideout once more, having been thoroughly taken by surprise by the impromptu attack on his somewhat delicate person on the walk back from the _La Volpe Addormentata_. Never, _never_ would he forgive Volpe for that…with a grimace, Leonardo rubbed at the blood spilling into his mouth, then tenderly touched his teeth to make sure they were all intact and present. Grumbling, he grabbed a piece of cloth and wiped at the blood, already thoroughly annoyed. And that was before Machiavelli found him and approached, straight to the business that Leonardo had already begun to regret.

"Now you know what you'll tell Cesare?" Machiavelli pressed immediately. Leonardo was unbuttoning his doublet and pulling up the undershirt to inspect his aching ribs, tenderly touching at the spot in question; having no doubt that it would be bruised by the next day. He shot a look at the other man that quelled him for but a moment before he persisted.

"Well?"

"Yes, Niccoló, I know! _Per favore, _I am not an _idiota_ like everyone here seems to think! Though I am not an _assassino_ I am more than capable."

Machiavelli was unfazed by his outburst, and he watched with some amusement as Leonardo's face dropped from angered to ashamed.

"_Mi dispiace,_ Niccoló. I am normally not so volatile. I am…"

"We all are, Leonardo," Machiavelli interrupted calmly. "You don't need to apologize."

Leonardo smiled weakly, and with his swollen, blackening eye and split lip it looked rather comical. Machiavelli commented, "La Volpe's thieves did you in well."

The inventor grimaced. "Ah, yes. That they did. I don't know why you all kept insisting I look like a beaten beggar for the…meeting."

"All part of the plan," Machiavelli said dismissively. "You must have had a…breaking point, if you will, with us to have a proper reason for joining Cesare's ranks. Being beaten into submission by a few angry _assassini_ should be well enough."

Leonardo huffed and dropped the piece of cloth he had been using to wipe away the blood, wincing at the throb of his head with the sudden turn that followed. "It seems a bit extreme."

"It is what's necessary. Unless you'd rather Claudia or Volpe be the turncoat…?"

Leonardo sighed. "I do not want to do this," he said. "But I am doing it even though it's horribly terrifying. I once told Ezio bravery is not my strong suit…it still isn't, but now Ezio isn't here to be the brave one."

"There are others that will take your place, Leonardo, if you are having second thoughts. We have only one shot at this. We must send the correct agent the first time else all will be lost."

"Oh, I am having second thoughts," Leonardo assured him, somewhat harshly. "And third, fourth, fifths and I'm working on the sixths as we speak. Not to worry though. I cannot weasel my way out of this. When should I meet the captain?"

"Tomorrow. You were attacked today and decided during the night you could no longer stand association with the _assassini_."

"Very well. Tomorrow." With a grimace, the inventor stood and rubbed his side, slowly buttoning his doublet back up and standing. He sighed and slowly made his way out of the hideout, limping as he went; his cape trailing sadly behind him like broken, bloodied wings.

* * *

That night, Leonardo could not sleep.

Perhaps that is for the better, he told himself. Then it would seem like he stayed up all night debating whether or not to betray the assassins. He would be tired, beaten, bruised and scared—it was a good thing he didn't have to act. He was not a good liar, let alone an actor.

_But I won't be lying,_ he told himself. The information he would be passing on to Cesare was completely true, only that the _assassini _also knew what he was telling and would compensate for it. It would be no lie. It was the absolute truth.

_But if I do it wrong, it's Ezio's life…and my own._

I won't do it wrong then.

_You always mess everything up at least once. This time you only have one chance._

There's a first time for everything…right?

_Ezio could die._

But he won't. I won't let him. That's why I'm doing this, to _stop_ him from dying. I'll do it right and I'll save him.

_Ezio could die._

He won't! I may not be as strong as him or as brave as him but I'll save him. Somehow. I can do it! I know I can. I have to. There's no other option. No other option but…but…

_Ezio could die._

Yes! Yes, he could! I could too! What use is there saying he could? The world _could_ end tomorrow but that is no reason to anticipate it…

_Ezio could—_

"Stop it!" With the shout, Leonardo shot straight up in his bed, ignoring the tightening of his chest and the throbbing of his ribs and head. He clutched at his hair and rocked back and forth, drawing up his legs to his chest as if to protect him from the darkness that refused to leave him and his mind alone.

"He won't die…he won't die…he won't die…"

* * *

A man stripped to his breeches barely started at the unbearably loud sound of his iron wrought cell door being thrown open. He lifted his eyes to the preened figure who strode in, a cocky smile on sure lips, and a kind of malevolent benevolence in his dark eyes. He made his way over to his prisoner, who was sitting against the stone with his wrists in manacles behind his back and his ankles the same, knees up towards the ceiling.

"Well, well. I was skeptical that my men had actually caught an _assassino_ and managed to detain him this long…and yet, here you lay before me. Perhaps I ought to have more faith in my men…"

The tall, grinning man in shining silver armor smirked at the silent prisoner before him. "Have you nothing to say? Do you feel more…exposed without your blade? Without your hood? Where has your confidence gone now, _assassino?"_

"And yet you continue to say nothing…how unbecoming," the standing man grinned. "I can work with that. I have some very special things planned for you after all the trouble you and your fellow assassins are causing me."

"Come closer and I'll show you trouble," the assassin finally spat, glaring at the other man.

A condescending laugh. "What are you planning to do if I do come closer? Hit me below the belt with your chained feet? I fear you are not as frightening in person,_ assassino_. I had a much higher expectation. Tell me, does your knee hurt?"

The man opposite of the prisoner strode forward and put one foot over the chain holding his feet and slammed his fist onto the swollen joint, making the assassin curl forward and grunt, jerking against his bonds and managing to flick his feet up to hit against his assailant's shin. Not that it did much good, but the standing man just grinned and cooed condescendingly.

"Does that hurt? _Mi dispiace tanto!_ How about this? Does this hurt?" Again, his fist collided with the broken joint, making his prisoner growl and glare hatefully at the grinning man.

"Ah, ah, ah, don't look at me like that," the man murmured sweetly. "I'm only asking. Once more. Does this hurt?" His hand grabbed his knee, twisting it and applying pressure.

"_Maledizione voi e la vostra puttana di una madre_, Cesare!" the prisoner spat, trying to lash out but only feeling his skin tear on both his ankles and wrists.

"Tsk, tsk," Cesare grinned. "Such a dirty mouth." His perfectly manicured hand came down from where it was braced against the wall and he ran his thumb over the scar running across the assassin's lips, only just pulling it back in time so it wasn't bitten off. "Perhaps this will still your words…"

Reaching to his belt, he drew a knife and without hesitation, drove it into his knee. The _assassino_ grunted, not daring to cry out, his pride forcing his teeth together and stifling his instinctual reaction to jerk away and scream.

Cesare grinned nastily, twisting the knife slowly in his flesh, relishing the tightening of the assassin's eyes and the snarl on his scarred lips.

"Oh, I will make you scream, Ezio Auditore," Cesare Borgia promised with a dark smile. "I will break you."

* * *

_**Idiota: **_**Idiot, fool, mooncalf**

_**Mi dispiace tanto! :**_** I'm so sorry!**

_**Maledizione voi e la vostra puttana di una madre, Cesare! : **_**Curse you and your whore of a mother, Cesare!**

**Sorry for…**

**-Mistakes, modern words, typos**

**-Bad Italian**

**-The delay, this chapter didn't want to come out at all, so I'm sorry if it feels awkward or rushed**

**Heh heh…thanks for reading and please leave a review! Love to all! **

**-Spirit-**


	3. Chapter 3

SEQUENCE 3 INITIATED…

THE TURNCOAT

Leonardo da Vinci stood restlessly in the shadows by a Borgia outpost. His hands were wringing themselves tightly together subconsciously and his breath was catching in his throat at every exhale, making him wheeze in anxiousness. His mind was whirring and speeding into hundreds of different scenarios, and it was so occupied he couldn't put enough effort into trying to move his legs towards the building.

With a heavy, rattling breath that filed his chest, Leonardo forced his first foot forward and nearly buckled from the strain on his injured leg. Hissing, he started forward again, using the pain from his limp to distract him while he walked towards certain death or imprisonment or…

"Get out of here," one of the guards growled at him, suddenly, his voice sounding hollow from behind his helmet. He pushed Leonardo roughly in the chest and he went staggering, nearly falling over. He couldn't help but cry out from the stab of pain in his ribs and his legs, making one of the guards snicker.

"I-I'm here to see Ferdinando di Napoli. Tell him th-that Leonardo da Vinci is here?"

The stutter in his voice was not a show.

The guard who had pushed him scoffed. "And the Captain knows you, does he?"

Leonardo nodded jerkily, wringing his hands, "Yes. I've built…items for him in the past and I n-need to speak with him."

The other guard nudged his companion and said, "Just go get the Captain, Adamo. I've heard of this da Vinci before."

Adamo muttered and clattered his way inside of the post he was guarding. Leonardo was left with the other guard, trying to keep his breathing under control, but judging by the looks the guard was shooting him he wasn't doing a very good job at it.

Adamo suddenly reappeared, looking disgruntled, and gestured Leonardo forward. "Captain Napoli will see you."

Leonardo dipped his head and shied by the other guard and stepped into the post, following Adamo with a limping gait. The soldier led him to a small room with a map stretched across a table and small wooden markers pegged into the paper, red fabric tied around some of them and others with white. The Captain was bent over the table, pressing another peg into the map as Leonardo was ushered in.

Captain Napoli straightened and grinned a bit at the inventor. "Da Vinci, I did not expect to see your face around these parts, especially in as many pieces as it is. What brings you here?"

Leonardo swallowed thickly and said, quietly, "I need to speak with Cesare Borgia."

The smile fell from the Captain's face, being replaced by suspicion. "Why?"

"I have information on the _assassini._"

Captain Napoli's eyes descended to the peg he had just placed, and then his fingers strayed to a white marked one and tugged it up, tossing it at Leonardo who started and only just managed to catch it. It was small, no larger than his smallest finger, and a small piece of white cloth was tied around its top.

"Those markers are possible locations of the _assassini's _headquarters. Do you see how many there are?"

Leonardo scanned his eyes across the large map, estimating that there were almost forty of the markers placed on the section of Roma that was under the control of Napoli. Leonardo looked back up at the Captain as he began to speak again.

"These are almost purely based on speculation and sightings from the civilians. We check nearly half a dozen each day and there is nothing ever there, no indication. Sometimes we find our men in hay stacks or our archers lying prone in rooftop gardens. Never have we come close to finding a resident _assassino_. What makes you think you can find the _assassini_ better than I?"

Leonardo looked at the Captain, in his eyes, and managed to keep both his face and voice from wavering when he said, "They trust me."

Ferdinando di Napoli rubbed his chin, looking at the inventor before him, and he slowly nodded. "_Molto bene._ I will send word to Cesare by runner and send you in my carriage. Follow Adamo and don't resist."

"_Grazie_, Captain Napoli. _Grazie mille."_

* * *

Leonardo blinked rapidly as a black bag was yanked from over his head, and he raised his hands to rub at his eyes, the left one with some tenderness as it was nearly swollen shut. After he had been escorted to the back of the Borgia outpost, he had been blinded by the bag and led roughly into a carriage, seated between two soldiers; the left one's sword pommel had been digging into his hip the entire trip. When the carriage had slowed he had been pushed out of the carriage and led blindly through twisting halls and pushed into a chair, where he was sitting now and blinking away the light that had temporarily blinded him.

"You'll excuse the precaution, Leonardo," a smooth voice said from his right. He turned to see none other than Cesare Borgia examining a worn book. He placed it on one of the shelves lining the room Leonardo was sitting in. Other than the hundreds of books, he was in an unrecognizable and commonplace room. He had no idea where he was, and though he had tried to keep track of the ways the carriage turned and counted the seconds between the ruts on the road, he was at a complete loss as to where he was.

"Of course," Leonardo managed. "It was…unexpected but an intelligent safeguard."

Cesare looked pleased at the complement, looking akin to a bird preening his feathers for a moment before the mask was replaced. He strolled over to the chair opposite of Leonardo, across a table that was wide enough that Leonardo would be hard pressed to launch himself over and wound Cesare without giving him a precious second or two to react. Not that Leonardo was planning to, but Cesare obviously knew what he was doing.

"Leonardo da Vinci. I heard your name and your achievements some time ago and when I had Napoli hire your services, I did not know you were a plethora of _assassino_ knowledge as I've been told you are. Tell me, why have you decided to step forward now? Why not before?" there was a cold edge to Cesare's voice, and Leonardo knew he had to deliver a believable explanation to not be killed on the spot.

The lie fell all too easily from Leonardo's lips. "Ah, well…you see, when I was in Firenze, I had been commissioned by Maria Auditore, Ezio's mother, and through her we met. After his family was…sentenced to death, I felt much sympathy for him and aided him by building him several weapons and decoding letters and papers for him when I could. We did not see each other often, but when we did he saved my life on a few occasions and I would often feel indebted to him.

"I did not know the specifics of his work, and I did not ask nor did he tell, but I did not play a big part in his life until I moved to Venezia and then Roma. When he began to build up the Brotherhood, I was…employed often to build the recruits he found weapons and, occasionally, stich them up when their resident _dottore _would not. I began to feel used and more than guilty for the part I played by aiding them…but I knew Ezio for some years and still felt indebted to him. After all, who was I to say no to an _assassino?_

"Recently, the _assassini_ have become…impatient with me. I could not always mend their wounds or build them blades as I had to design plans for you or paint commissions. I have a life outside of theirs, but they do not understand…but when I was designing the war machines for Captain Napoli, I felt…productive. I felt better designing them than the guns or blades for the _assassini…_but Ezio went and destroyed all of them—the only set of plans as well!—merely because they were not designed for him or his men…

"That more than anything turned me further against the _assassini. _But as I said before, they are not as patient as they seem. The wounds you see on me and my limp are the results of their _impatience._ Only yesterday did they do this to me! I cannot carry on in good conscience working for those who beat their supposed allies and kill innocents…"

Leonardo glanced up to Cesare, whom Leonardo had occasionally looked up from his hands to look at during his explanation, and he looked as cool as he had before, but perhaps with a gleam in his eyes.

"And? What have you come to me for? Protection?"

"No, _Maestro _Borgia. I've come to you to…right my past wrongs. I have information on the _assassini _that only one of them would know, I have knowledge on their plans and who they intend to assassinate. I am willing to give you this information to clear my conscience."

Cesare's eyebrows rose up, and he looked disbelieving. "You are willing to turn on the _assassini _merely because it makes you feel guilty that you know these things?"

Leonardo dropped his eyes. "Yes. What they are doing…what their presence is doing to Roma…I do not approve and this guilt has kept me up at night. I do not fear they will discover my treason, the Brotherhood is in shambles now that Ezio has traipsed off somewhere without word or gotten himself killed. They would not waste men to tail me when they are off looking for him. I do not want them destroying Roma…"

Cesare was silent for some moments, before he leaned back in his chair and said, "You perhaps are one of the most selfless people I have met if what you speak is true. Turning on those whom you have aided for years merely for the sake of a city."

"I do not agree with them," Leonardo said, somewhat sharply. "Or their values nor by the means they accomplish their ends. They are a poisonous presence in the city and soon they will destroy it as they have others before."

Cesare steeped his fingers together and looked at Leonardo over his fingers. Leonardo tried not to squirm under the scrutiny, but with his heart racing as it was he could barely keep still. Finally, Cesare spoke.

"Give me the names of the main _assassini _that run their organization."

Leonardo looked up at him and regretted that he had no choice. If he refused, Cesare would not trust him and he might be killed at that moment, or imprisoned and tortured for the information he claimed to have. Leonardo took a breath and said, quietly, "Ezio Auditore is their leader in all but name. Niccoló Machiavelli is another, La Volpe, Bartolomeo d'Alviano, and Claudia Auditore—the Madam of Roma—is their ally but not an inducted _assassino. _There are also the recruits, but I do not know all of their names and none of been promoted to an _assassino _yet."

Cesare was nodding slowly as he spoke, and leaned forward when the inventor had fallen silent. "_Molto bene._ I will take you up on your offer. I want their latest target and those who they intend to send in two days. If you do not deliver, I will…dispose of you. I will send men with a carriage to your home in two days to bring you to me with the information."

Leonardo dipped his head, thanking the Borgia profusely until he was waved away. The black bag was replaced over his head and he was jerked out of his chair and led away.

* * *

Leonardo stumbled wildly as he was thrust out of the carriage and the bag was ripped from over his head. The carriage door slammed shut and it clattered away in an instant, barely giving Leonardo a chance to glimpse it before it disappeared. Leonardo groaned and leaned down to rub his leg, hissing and nearly falling to his knee from the pain of hitting the ground so hard.

Straightening with a groan and grimace, Leonardo limped heavily to his workshop and opened the door, slowly closing it behind him and leaning against it, breathing in the scent of paint and mustiness, his eyes closed and heart finally slowing down because he had _survived_ and Cesare actually might trust him…

Suddenly Leonardo was sitting down against the door still, having slid down it until his legs were spayed out before him and head against the wood. His chest was hurting and his head was pounding, and before he could do anything to stop himself he buried his face in his hands and he shook with suppressed tears that he desperately wanted to hold back.

He was overwhelmed for the briefest of moments, shaking and shuddering without any outlet, because Ezio was gone and he was a spy, a double agent, a _traitor_ and honestly he has no idea what he was thinking because out of everyone in Roma Leonardo da Vinci could not lie to save his own life, but that didn't matter now because it was _Ezio's_ life that was in need of saving and what in God's name _was he thinking?_

"I see it went well then," a dry voice said.

Leonardo lifted his head up, only after discreetly wiping at his cheeks, but they were tinted red and his one good eye was reddened. He sniffed when he saw it was La Volpe standing in his workshop, arms crossed over his chest, and pulled himself together, if a bit roughly.

"What happened?"

"He…I…he told me to learn who you were planning to assassinate and who was going to be doing the assassination in two days. He…made me tell him who all were assassins…"

"But you are alive."

"Yes," Leonardo echoed. "I am alive."

"I will gather the others and you can tell us as one," Volpe suddenly decided. "You need rest. No, don't come, I will bring them to you."

Leonardo didn't even bother to watch how the master thief left his workshop. He only lowered his head and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Leonardo…Leonardo, wake up…"

"Hmm…? What…?"

None other than Claudia Auditore was crouching next to him, a comforting arm on his shoulder as she gently coaxed him awake. She smiled gently at him when his eyes focused on her, losing the haziness of sleep.

"You fell asleep," she explained. Ah, that was why his back was aching; he had fallen asleep against his door.

He winced and rubbed at his face, eventually looking up to look at the assassins before him, standing in a semi-circle around him.

"Well? Tell us what happened, Leonardo."

And so Leonardo related the entire tale, from when he went to Napoli and how he was blinded on the trip, he explained the room he had been in with Cesare and how he had been forced to give up their names. He told them of Cesare's order and how he had been returned home.

He glanced up only after he had finished, seeing Volpe pursing his lips and Machiavelli stroking his chin, while Claudia hadn't risen from her spot next to him, instead opting to keep one of her arms comfortingly around his shoulders in a very affectionate gesture. Bartolomeo's brow was crunched as he computed the information.

"Our names matter very little," Machiavelli finally proclaimed, waving his hand as if warding off a fly. "They will do little but avert some of Cesare's attention to us and our ventures. What I believe we must worry about is this assassination that will supposedly happen in two days' time."

"We have no assassination planned," Bartolomeo said.

"Yes, that's why I'm worried," Machiavelli replied. "There is no one we are intending to strike, but we cannot send Leonardo back with just that."

"We can choose some Templar agent, or a Borgia captain," Claudia suggested. "Something substantial but not earth-shattering."

"Yes, that is what I was thinking," La Volpe agreed. "Cesare will send troops or men to stop the assassination. We can compensate for it and instead of planning for the kill, we could plan for the escape and make it look…spur of the moment, if you will."

"One of us will have to go," Machiavelli said. "To reassure Cesare that Leonardo's list is accurate."

"I will," La Volpe said immediately. "I will bring a few recruits and my thieves. They will help with the recruit's escape, as will I. There has been an irksome Borgia captain that has wandered near us and has been harassing some of my thieves and it would not be illogical that I would have him disposed of."

"It will have to do," Machiavelli said, dipping his head. He looked down at Leonardo, who was following the conversation with half lidded eyes. "Perhaps we shall leave you to rest, Leonardo? Perhaps you ought to get smelling salts from a _dottore _as well."

"I can fetch you some," Claudia said before Leonardo could respond. "My girls can wait a few moments longer. Go to bed, Leonardo, and I'll put the salts on your table here."

"_Grazie," _he managed. He stood heavily up and bade the _assassini_ goodbye, trudging to his room and falling onto the bed. He was asleep only moments after his head hit the pillow.

* * *

**Wow, that took me ages to write but it was soo much fun…heh heh…anyways, thanks to those who reviewed! I love you and all those who read, alerted or favorited! Mwah!**

_**Grazie mille: **_**Thank you so much**

_**Molto bene: **_**very well**

** Thanks again! Sorry for any mistakes, typos, bad Italian or inconsistencies. Love to all!**

** -Spirit-**


	4. Chapter 4

SEQUENCE 4 INITIATED…

THE ESCAPE

Leonardo was, as Cesare had promised, blindfolded and brought to him two days later. He told him everything Volpe and Machiavelli had coached him to say as they had taught him to say it, almost pleading and using his hands to demonstrate how he had overheard the information. As the story went, he had been called in to stich up a new recruit and, while tucked away in the corner of their hideout, had overheard Volpe arguing with Machiavelli that the Templar agent needed to be dealt with as soon as possible.

Cesare stood with his arms crossed and eyes heavy lidded, watching the man before him with his predator eyes, and when Leonardo finally fell silent, his fingers beat out a lazy tempo on his elbow. "How many men does this assassin plan to bring with him?"

"Two fifth rank recruits," Leonardo replied, quickly. "And seven of his own thieves for reassurance."

"Who will strike?"

"He did not specify, but one of the recruits. I am sure of it."

"Will he go himself to fight? This…_Volpe?_ Or is he a mere overseer?"

"I believe he is to be present, but only to overlook the recruit's performance, since they are of lower rank."

Cesare stroked his neatly trimmed beard and waved his hand dismissively at Leonardo. "Very well. If your information proves true, then you will be rewarded. My men will pick you up when I have need of your information again. Until then keep your ears open."

Leonardo stood and bowed, deeply, trying to keep his shaking hands from showing. _"Grazie."_ He did not struggle when the guards approached and pulled the bag over his head and locked his arms, dragging him away.

Leonardo spent the rest of the day flirting among his things in his workshop, his nervous fingers smearing paintings and breaking models despite every attempt to calm. Eventually he gave up and sat in a dark corner, knees to his forehead and his breaths like rattles.

_What have I gotten into?_

* * *

A dark haired man sat crouched in the darkness of his small, hidden cell. Every ounce of his attention was focused on his wrists, his fingers moving quickly and nimbly as they maneuvered a thin piece of metal in the lock of his restraints. His hands were bound behind his back, but it was obvious the prisoner understood the components of the locks and also knew how to undo them.

After hours of meticulous work, with a sense of finality he jerked the metal bit up and was rewarded with the gratifying sound of the lock opening. He pulled his wrist out of the harsh restraint, turning around so he could properly wield the bit of metal and open the other lock that chained him to the wall. In little time he was free, absently rubbing his chaffed wrists. Ezio smirked to himself, satisfied.

Ezio did a once over his body, grimacing at the dirty wound on his knee and barely brushing the tops of the lashes on his back, grimacing at the memory of the flogging. He was in nothing but his breeches, all armor and underclothes removed, left with only his scars and his wounds. He set himself to tearing his breeches and winding the material around his wounded knee, seemingly biding his time in the dark hellhole he had been thrown into many days ago.

Ezio might have been sitting there for hours before the echoing sounds of approaching steps reached his pricked ears. He stayed silent as the steps got louder and louder, accompanied with the clank of armor and the hiss of a torch. Through the small slit under the cell door, the prisoner could see the flickering fire and smiled, briefly, to himself.

The metal slider that covered a small slit in the cell door was opened, showing the eyes of a bored soldier as he peered into the dark cell. The prisoner had positioned himself in the darkest corner of the cell where their torchlight would not touch, and had purposefully left the empty manacles in the dead center of his cell.

The soldier cried out and snapped at his companion, "The prisoner! He's escaped!"

The other soldier said, "How did he get out? The door is still locked!"

"Go check inside," the first one ordered. "I'm going to the others to see if they saw anything!"

"Or if they're still alive," the other replied grimly as he fumbled with his keys and opened the cell. The first soldier ran off into the distance, down the hall to where the other soldiers on guard must have been located. The prisoner stayed silent as the door was opened and the scantily armored guard stepped into the threshold, bearing a torch and a sword in the other hand.

He didn't even get a single second to cry out when the assassin lunged suddenly out of the darkness, covering his mouth as he used all of his strength to snap his head around and break his neck. Ezio snatched the sword out of the air before it could clank on the stones. He grinned to himself and knelt down, stripped the body of his armor and helmet, quickly buckling the clothes and metal plates onto his body and capping his dirty head with the helmet.

He dragged the body further into the cell and closed the door behind him as he slipped out. Ezio struggled to hide his limp, but did so nobly as he approached the guard post that was the only entrance to the cell he had been held in.

Three soldiers, all bearing their weapons, turned to him and one barked, "Well?"

Ezio shook his head, forcing his voice lower than his normal one in an attempt to mimic the guard's voice, but only after hearing a few meager sentences the impersonation was not very accurate. "He's gone," he said, continuing forward with only the slightest of limps. "No sign of anything, just gone. _Maledetto assassino! _I'm going out to see if the others saw him."

The other guard started to speak amongst themselves as he hurried away, only daring to limp when he was out of their sight. He could still hear their conversation, however.

"How could he have slipped past us? We were here the entire time! Not one strange thing happened!"

"Check the cell again!"

"What if the _assassini_ really can walk straight through walls…? Travel through the shadows?"

"The _assassini_ are mere men! Do not let superstitions cloud your mind. He must have gotten past us somehow in the past four hours."

"Or maybe…he got past us just now…?"

"What are you saying, Tolomeo?"

"Didn't Folco have a torch?"

Ezio began to run then, as quietly as he could. But with his injured knee it was near impossible. He found himself at the base of a dark column of steps, which he took two at a time. Glancing around when he reached the top, Ezio found himself in a familiar dank room, the staircase he had used craftily hidden behind several crates and racks of weapons.

The disguised assassin hurried forward, towards the wide stairs, but only five steps up the soldiers from below appeared from the stairs and raised the alarm.

_"Assassino! _There he is, in Folco's armor!"

_"Cazzo,"_ Ezio muttered, gripping his weeping knee before lunging up the steps, running as quickly as he could. Pain shot through his back and leg, making him stumble, but the assassin just grit his teeth and continued on, pushing past the pain. The guards sprinted after him, one only quick enough to barely keep his pace.

At the top of the second staircase, he was spat out into an elegant hall and wheeled around, randomly shooting to the left. He cried out and stumbled when the quick guard slashed him at his elbow, making him collide with the wall. His bloody hand—courtesy of his knee and now bleeding arm—left a grotesque print on the pale stone.

Ezio tried to run again, this time managing a few steps until another guard caught up his with quick footed companion and tackled the escapee to the ground. Ezio swore and twisted and bit like a rabid wolf, managing to bruise several of the guards and even making one of them bleed with the force of his bite.

Ezio Auditore's brief freedom ended when a harsh blow to his temple shoved blackness in front of his eyes.

* * *

"Can't I even have one peaceful day?"

"I am afraid not, Leonardo. There are no peaceful days in the midst of a war."

"A war no one is aware of."

"You are aware of it."

"Why are you here, Volpe?"

"I've come to give you these new paints, courtesy of Machiavelli."

"You're his messenger now?...why would Niccoló send me paints?"

"Perhaps he is trying to woo you."

"Ha, indeed. Well, _grazie—_I think—for these, Volpe. When will I—oh, you're gone already. How does he do that? Is the skill inherited only by fellow _assassini?_ Perhaps there is a certain way of ducking behind a passerby and maneuvering away…perhaps I ought to try. Someday…_Mio Dio!_ These paints are heavy…so much for getting more canvas…"

Grumbling, Leonardo made his way back to his workshop and left the heavy crate of paints on the nearest table he found upon entering. Rubbing his back with his grimace, he was about to wander to his easel to continue painting, but the innocent jars of paints caught his eye. The paints were normal, if a bit expensive—but the entire crate of them seemed so farfetched and ludicrous to Leonardo. Why would Machiavelli give him a crate of paints?

"What are you up to, Niccoló?" the inventor muttered, picking out a few random jars and examining them. He meticulously emptied the crate, looking at each paint one by one, then setting them aside when he found nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing, Leonardo was left with a simple wooden crate and twenty-four jars of paint.

Leonardo rubbed his face, resigning himself to the idea that Niccoló might have just sent him these paints as some kind of compensation for being the mole, and lifted the crate to toss it with the other abandoned ones. Halfway through his workshop, he stopped and looked skeptically at the crate and slowly weighed it in his hands.

"This is far too heavy," he muttered, returning to the table and tapping gently at the panes of wood and prying at the individual seams at the edges with his fingernails. He tapped at the bottom, crinkling his brow when the sound that echoed back was slightly hollow. "And there it is," he said as he pried up a false bottom of the crate and was faced with a stone that gave the crate its extra weight—placed there to alert him to the false bottom, no doubt—and a single piece of parchment pinned in place by the stone.

Leonardo picked up the parchment and read:

_Tartaruga—_

_ Two recruits one leap. Ferdinando di Napoli. Three days at dusk. _

_Generale Due_

Leonardo frowned. _"Tartaruga?_ Why am I a turtle?" After several long moments of contemplation, he shook his head and quickly burned the paper in his dwindling fire, watching the parchment writhe and weep.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Cesare sent his men to collect Leonardo not four days after the impromptu attempt on the Templar agent and one day after the crate-note from Machiavelli. However, this time Leonardo was simply shoved into a carriage that was completely covered, not a slit or window to peek out of to see their destination.

Unfortunately, Leonardo was blinded before he was led out of the carriage. The cloth was removed upon entry, and Leonardo could only glance around before he was led through elegant halls and extravagant rooms. At one point, his eye was caught by a splash of red on the stone wall, and he barely deciphered it as a handprint before he was shoved into another room and away from the strange marking.

Cesare was quick with his compliment—"The information you supplied proved correct."—and continued to interrogate him with the newest bit of information he had been supplied by note, along with a spontaneous story of overhearing the two recruits speak about it. He sat in an uncomfortable silence as Cesare mulled this information over and eventually he stood with relief when he was sent off with a wave of his hand.

The blindfold was replaced and Leonardo closed his eyes as he was led away, into the carriage and brought back home. It seemed so much emptier.

* * *

**I. Am so. Sorry for the wait. Seriously. This took way too long for me to write. T_T Is ashamed. I did take the **_**Braveman**_** and **_**Generale Due **_**names (codenames for Leonardo and Machiavelli) from ****Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy**** but it took everything I had not to use "Tinker" for Leonardo. ;_; But I nobly restrained myself. Anyways, the "one leap" in Machiavelli's note referred to a Leap of Faith, therefore an initiated assassin along with the two recruits.**

** Thanks all who read, alerted, reviewed and favorited! Love to you all! **

** Sorry for any mistakes, typos, bad Italian or inconsistencies. **

_** Maledetto assassino!**_** : Damn assassin!**

_**Cazzo **_**: Fuck**

_**Mio Dio**_** : My god!**

_**Generale Due**_** : General Two**

**-Spirit-**


End file.
